The Lesson
by The Angelic Demoness
Summary: Matt falls asleep on the job, so Mello decides to teach him a lesson...


This is a roleplay between SlvrSoleAlchmst1 and I. The wonderful SlvrSoleAlchmst1 was Matt, and I was Mello. We wrote this after talking about what would happen if we challenged ourselves with writing uke Matt and seme Mello respectively...and this is what happened.

"--" indicates a change in POV

ENJOY!

--

Mello was gone. Again. It was the third time that week, and frankly... Matt was pissed.

Sure, he hated the outside weather, and god knew he had forty levels of his latest game to beat, but there was something nerve-wracking about getting left behind. He wanted to _be there_, wanted in on a piece of the action. Kira had killed L. Matt wanted his revenge. He hadn't expected to get it by sitting in front of his computer, doing surveillance. It took skill to do his job, Matt knew, but somehow he still resented the neglect. And the boredom. He should have been gloating, should have been ecstatic that Mello had come to _him_, asked _him_ to help avenge the former L, but...it wasn't enough. It just wasn't. Mello and Near were on the front lines. Matt wanted to be...with Mello.

He glanced at his nearest computer screen. Nothing. God damn it, there was _always_ nothing, and fuck if there wouldn't be precisely _nothing_ for the four hours until Mello arrived home. He couldn't _stand_ it. Matt's conscious mind was as antsy as his fingers were over a game console. He itched to be plotting and scheming and hunting Kira alongside Mello. Out there with guns and the mafia, watching Mello bend people to his will and tramp his way up the power chains. There was something...amazing...about it, and Matt wanted a piece of it.

One more glance at his computer told him to give up. Fuck the surveillance; no one had moved outside that damn building for three days, and no one was going to. And he didn't want to face forty levels of his game. With a sigh, he rolled over on the couch and shut his eyes.

--

Mello kicked aside a can with his black boot, making his way back to his apartment. It had been a long day and all he wanted to do was take a nice, warm shower when he got home. He moved out of the shadows to cross the deserted street that led to the entrance of his apartment.

Well, not just_ his_ apartment. Matt lived there too. He knew Matt hated staying inside instead of being in the action, but Mello needed him there. The redhead was damn good with computers, and Mello trusted him to make sure everything went as planned. Plus, if Matt were with him, Mello knew he'd never be able to concentrate. He needed to have a clear head when dealing with Kira. The bastard had killed L, and Mello was determined to make him pay, but he wouldn't risk Matt.

Mello's face reflected that determination as he unlocked and opened the door, entering his apartment. He was greeted by silence, which was weird since Matt was usually eager for human companionship after a day of surveillance. He made his way into the room where Matt had his equipment set up, frowning at the screen just visible over the back of the couch. Where was Matt? He continued over to the computer, only to stop in his tracks.

Matt was on the couch…asleep.

--

Sometimes Matt hated the way his body functioned.

Long ago, he'd trained himself to sleep lightly; the turn of a doorknob was enough to wake him. Hell, he'd have woken to a mosquito buzzing on the other side of the room. He'd been conscious before Mello had opened the door, hearing the blond's footsteps on the stairs outside, but he'd chosen to keep his eyes closed and his breathing steady. He didn't want to be awake just yet. The couch was comfortable... Curse Wammy's House and its smart detective training sessions! He wanted to _sleep_, not "be ready at a moment's notice, fully conscious and aware of allsurroundings immediately upon waking." Suddenly, Matt grinned.

And if Mello were watching, he'd just given himself away.

Nothing for it now. Matt opened his eyes and sat up. "Hey Mel...lo..." but his greeting fell short. His eyes had drifted automatically to his computer screens. The fucking empty crate by the back door of the building they were watching... It had moved. Matt squinted at it, cold panic invading his system like injections of ice into his blood. There was no doubt about it, the crate had _moved_. Six inches to the right, precisely. Someone had been there. And Matt had missed it.

--

Mello glared, noticing Matt's suddenly terrified gaze. Matt had to know he'd be mad, but he looked like he thought Mello was going to kill him. Exactly how long had Matt been asleep?

"So…how long have you been fucking passed out instead of doing your job?" he asked, making sure to put some extra malice into his voice for effect. He watched as Matt's gaze flitted between him and the computer screen, indecision in his eyes.

Now Mello was getting impatient. It was obvious that Matt had been asleep for quite some time, but it was weird for him to be _this_ out of it when he woke up. Matt had always been a light sleeper, so he doubted the gamer was disoriented. The blond waited, albeit impatiently, watching the growing horror settle on Matt's features. He reached out to shake the other man, demanding, "Matt…what the fuck is wrong?!"

--

Matt flinched at Mello's touch. Oh hell. Oh, bloody fucking _hell_. Mello was going to _kill_ him. Rip him into indecipherable _pieces_, because Matt had fallen asleep. He'd _fallen asleep_, and let his guard down, and that was the worst thing that he could have done. It didn't matter how bored or neglected he'd felt. This meant more than Mello's wrath. This...

This was failure, and it fucking made Matt's stomach curl. This could cost them their victory.

Matt schooled his features to a look of smooth marble and assessed his situation at light speed. There was still a 34 chance that he was jumping to conclusions. It could have been a simple error in his calculations of the original position of the crate... No, _no,_ that was bullshit, and Matt knew it. He kept his face straight and met Mello's eyes.

…It could have been a cat. A dog? A homeless man stumbling through the alley and shifting the crate with his foot. Matt could fucking handle this — he was a _Wammy's child_ for Chrissake — and this would not be his death.

"Nothing's wrong, Mello. Just thought I saw something on the screen, that's all." Shit, he was going to vomit. "But the building's still there, see? Ha ha, no kamikaze bombers setting the place on fire like certain others of us have been known to do. Nothing's happened for days now. It's fine."

--

Mello's eyes narrowed as he considered Matt's response. He knew something was wrong. Matt was an excellent liar, but Matt couldn't lie to _him_. Mello could always tell. He had seen the panic in Matt's eyes; something wasn't right. Why would Matt lie to him? Unless….

Mello looked at the screen again. Matt hadn't been looking at the building — he had been staring at the section of the screen featuring an alley. The buildings to the sides could hardly be seen. He looked back at Matt, glaring in suspicion. What was wrong with the alley?

That was when Mello saw Matt's hands shaking. It was barely perceptible, but Mello caught it. Now he knew for certain that there was something _very_ wrong.

He grabbed Matt's chin harshly, jerking his face closer to him to be sure he was heard, his voice low and menacing, "I know you, Matt. What the fuck aren't you telling me? And don't lie to me again." Mello watched Matt's eyes, keeping their gazes locked, daring Matt to try it.

--

Mello's fingers were gripping his chin, hot like fire, and oh _god_ was Matt in trouble. How did Mello know he was lying? Was it a trick? A ploy to double-check Matt's information, to make sure that Matt was being thorough with his report? But he looked into Mello's eyes, tumbled dead into the gaze like a drowning man, and no... Mello _knew_. He was searching Matt's soul with a look that said, "Say one thing I don't like and you're finished," and Matt's heart was palpitating like the Kingdom had come. No more time for prayers; this was himself at the Gates. This was his judgment, right here with Mello staring him down, and Matt knew that he hadn't been a good little angel.

Into the fire it was, then.

"M-Mello..." And Mello's grip tightened, sharp, bony fingers forcing his chin up farther, until Matt's neck was bared. He was exposed, oh so _exposed_ to the force of Mello's raw power, his unadulterated control and demand for an answer...

Matt swallowed, his fate decided. "Mello, the crate has moved six inches over." Matt respected Mello too much to lie to him more than once. He closed his eyes and waited for the explosion.

--

Mello kept the grip on Matt's chin as he looked at the screen again. The crate had moved six inches, huh? Then there was nothing to worry about. Mello had moved that himself earlier, but it seemed that Matt had been asleep longer than Mello had thought if he hadn't seen Mello there. He'd have to teach his gamer a lesson in surveillance.

"And you didn't see who moved it because you were asleep?" Mello's voice was deceptively calm, a tone he only used when he was beyond pissed.

He felt Matt gulp in fear, emitting something that may have been a yes, but came out as a strangled whimper. Mello turned back to him, his eyes burning as he shoved Matt back into the couch. He pinned him there by the throat, not too hard, but enough to make sure Matt realized where his hand was. Still glaring frighteningly, Mello brought his knee up onto the couch, between Matt's slack legs to rest just below his member, threatening.

Mello brought his face down so that their noses were practically touching, forcing Matt to look right at him. "Well Matt? Who told you that you could take a fucking nap?"

--

One move — all it had taken Mello was _one fucking move_ — and Matt was in the most perilous position he'd ever had the misfortune of being caught in. Mello was half a step away from _choking_ him, growling into his face…. And what the fuck was with the knee between his legs? Matt's eyes flickered down to the spot, but Mello tightened his grip enough to steal his breath and Matt snapped his gaze back up obediently. If Mello wanted to play for intimidation and choking, shaking fear, it was working. He had Matt's attention.

Matt's own voice scared him when he finally managed the breath to answer. "Obviously no one _told_ me I could take a nap, Mello. I just took one. It was wrong, all right? I know. But we need to _fix the problem_ right now."

Mello was still watching him, eyes slightly narrowed as if considering Matt's words, but he didn't move. Matt didn't like that stare on him. It felt... too intimate.

--

Mello let out a dark chuckle, pleased that his actions were intimidating the usually unaffected redhead. Secretly, he couldn't help but appreciate Matt's everyday response. Mello knew Matt was trying not to show any signs of weakness, but Matt needed to remember just _who_ he was talking to.

"So now you're calling the shots, hmm? _I'll_ decide when we need to do something, and right now I think you need to learn a lesson…" Mello trailed off threateningly, shifting so his precariously placed knee was resting on Matt's leg, still just below his most sensitive area. He applied pressure, watching Matt's face as the pressure became too much for him to hide.

Mello stopped at Matt's gasp of pain, tightening his grip on Matt's chin again, forcing the redhead to continue looking directly at him. There was no escape except to do it Mello's way.

"Now…who is in charge here Matt?" When Matt failed to respond, Mello sank his knee in a little more, letting Matt know he was serious. "Matt…I asked who the hell is in charge here?"

--

It _hurt_. Did Mello really have to _do_ that to him?

Matt let out a gasp as Mello posed his question in a hiss. And damn it, but Matt answered him. "You're..." he clenched his teeth, unable to believe that he was really giving in. But this was Mello. And Mello was unstoppable. It was why Matt respected him.

"_You're_ in charge, clearly. You're Wammy's Number Two. And I'm what, three? By now dropped to seven because of all the video games I waste my time with?"

The pain was almost unbearable now. For a light guy, Mello knew how to apply pressure in a way that built. Matt watched Mello's eyes spark, and he knew that he was giving Mello exactly what he wanted. Before Matt could think, his next words left his mouth.

"I've been a naughty boy, I get it. What are you going to do, punish me?"

He wished the Wammy's House had taught him how to keep his mouth shut. But Matt could hardly focus on the consequences that he knew would come. The pressure was unbearable now, and the grip Mello had on his chin... It was...rousing. And there was something carnal in it. Something that Matt wanted more of. Would _have_ more of if it killed him, because suddenly, Matt found himself crossing a line.

The thought made him blink, nothing more than a flutter of his eyelashes, but inside he was burning. Mello, asserting himself _like this_, so close to Matt and making him edgy... Matt...liked it.

"I'm too good at this job for you to beat me senseless, Mello," he said next, knowing damn well that he was pushing limits. It raised the level of his blood temperature. "You wouldn't actually injure me, would you?"

--

Mello was torn between rage and amusement. Matt had both insulted him and praised him all at once. Mello had to give him credit. Matt never backed down; he had guts.

He could push Matt a little further.

"I'm sorry, did you say I'm number two? And who would you say is number one, Matt?" Mello punctuated this by moving his remaining knee to the other side of Matt, shifting the weight off Matt's leg.

He smiled eerily as he watched Matt realize how much trouble he was in. Then again, it seemed that Matt wasn't quite as upset with this rough treatment as Mello would have expected. Matt was definitely too good to injure _badly_, but he didn't need to let the redhead know that.

He moved his knee to hover above Matt's crotch, a threatening look in his eye as he smirked, "I wouldn't injure you? I don't know Matt, would I?"

--

Matt didn't hesitate; he knew who number one was. And he apparently felt like signing his own death warrant by stating so.

"_Near_ is number..." but halfway past his lips the taunt died.

Near's name had triggered an automatic snarl, and Mello was about to lose it — Matt could tell. Silently, Matt cursed his own desires. Now was not the time to toy with Mello's anger just so he himself could have a little...thrill.

…Even if Mello's knee _was_ right there, and Matt couldn't seem to get his mind off how intimate their positions were. The snarl was growing on Mello's face; Matt felt as if he were seeing in slow motion. Shit, shit shit shit...

--

Mello growled. No one got away with comparing him to Near…. No one. Not even Matt, who had always been with him. No one talked to him about Near and got away with it.

Mello moved his knee and lifted Matt up slightly, only to shove him back into the couch harder, knocking the breath out of him. "I'm sorry Matt, I didn't fucking hear you!" He replaced his knee where it had previously been, poised above Matt's groin before actually applying pressure the same way he had on Matt's leg.

The touch wasn't as hard, but he felt Matt react instantly. Matt writhed in pain, groaning as Mello let up briefly, only to tighten his grip on Matt's chin. Glaring at Matt fiercely, Mello felt him shift slightly. That was when he noticed the start of Matt's arousal.

Mello didn't let anything show on his face, but he was surprised. He never thought Matt would be aroused by such rough treatment.

"Care to rephrase Matt?"

--

"Shit, I..." Then Matt gulped. There it was. The undeniable truth in what he was feeling.

Matt was getting aroused. It wasn't so much the rough treatment — because Jesus FUCK that grind into his groin had _hurt_ — but it was...Mello. It was Mello himself, and everything that made him volatile and perilous and beautiful. Matt wanted something sexual from Mello, badly, and if it came with Mello's violent tantrum, then...he'd just have to deal with it.

...But he wasn't sure he wanted to bring up Near again. "I... you know..." It was a pant, a gasp slipping from his lips unbidden as Matt tried desperately to form the words he needed to combat the reaction below his belt. "It's not...a bad thing...to be number two. It means—"

Mello pressed down again, incensed by the additional reference to second place.

"It means that you still have somewhere to go. That you aren't...stagnant. You can move—" Oh god, Matt wanted him to move, against him and with him and over him. "—move forward, still. Change. Learn. There's strength in that."

Matt's voice gave out; any more talk and he would drop into a long, low moan. He bit it back.

--

Mello noticed the hitch in Matt's voice as Matt took a moment to gather himself, unable to meet Mello's eyes. It wasn't quite the response Mello was looking for. He was going to have to try a different tactic, and he knew just what to do.

"So you want me to move, huh Matt?" Mello's face shifted from threatening to seductive and his weight made a slight change.

He moved the knee that was poised for another attack on Matt's manhood so that it was against his crotch without applying pressure like before. He shoved Matt back into the couch again, still holding onto Matt's chin, though not quite as forcefully. He moved his face down to Matt's ear to breathe hotly against the sensitive flesh. "How can I get you to say that I'm number one?"

--

This time, Matt did moan. It was drawn-out, uninhibited, and yearning. Oh no — he'd lost control somewhere, and now Mello was exploiting it. Mello fucking _knew_, and he was going to use Matt's desire against him. All because he wanted to be number one? Matt would have rolled his eyes if he thought himself capable. But his eyes were currently dilating, growing darker with pleasure, and Mello's moist breath at his ear was a piece of _heaven_ in the middle of his current hell. His moan had been positively a _beg_. And now Mello was taunting him, teasing him, asking him to say something that would invite more. All for claim of the number one position? It was...

"Mello, why are you..." But the start of another question was not what Mello wanted.

Mello wanted _answers_, and fuck if Matt wasn't forced into giving them when the blond leaned in closer, a menace and a seduction.

"You'd have to _make_ me say you're number one, Mello. Because right now, you aren't. You can't argue with statistics. It's never bothered _me_ to see you second place, so if you want me to say it..." he was panting now, hot with their proximity, "then you'll just have to draw it out of me somehow, you asshole." A satisfied smirk followed his announcement. Oh, he was going to hell, via Mello-death-sentence. But he couldn't help himself. Mello's touches were just too _enticing_.

--

It seemed Matt wanted to do this the hard way. Well, Mello could work with that.

He shifted so that he was straddling the redhead, glaring down at him. He felt himself responding to Matt's arousal. The gamer was panting, and that moan had nearly made him lose control, but Matt had to learn his lesson. Mello was number one. Mello was _in_ _charge_.

He returned to Matt's ear, taking the lobe into his mouth, relishing the strangled moan that escaped Matt's open mouth. He pulled back slightly to look into Matt's eyes. "Are you sure I'm not number one, Matt?" With that question he bent down to capture the feisty redhead's lips in an aggressive kiss, nipping his bottom lip to gain entrance into Matt's warm mouth.

Mello briefly forgot that he was _punishing _Matt, that he was trying to convince him. Mello was number one, but Matt's mouth was so hot and moist, and he couldn't help but swallow all of Matt's little moans of pleasure eagerly. He wanted more.

--

Matt broke the kiss; he had to. He was going to lose himself completely, if Mello kept on with that tongue and those lips... Matt had never known anything to taste so sweet and yet so dangerously tainted at the same time. He had to slow down, had to resist the fibers in his blood that were telling him to submit like a pat of butter to the blade of his seducer... Any more kisses like _that_ and Matt would be whimpering.

He summoned a bout of gumption. "Don't get so cocky, Mello. You'll have to do better than that." But it was a lie. A sweet, sweet lie to hide his urge to surrender. Those hips, grinding over his when Mello moved, that _tongue..._

--

Mello narrowed his eyes. He _would_ get Matt to surrender, to admit that he was better. He released his hold on Matt's neck to trace his hands down the length of Matt's body, pulling up his shirt to run his hands along Matt's firm stomach. He smirked as Matt threw his head back, groaning at the contact. Mello chuckled as the redhead brought a glove-covered hand up in an attempt to quiet the sounds he was making.

If Matt kept up with those whimpers and that delicious panting, Mello wasn't going to be able to hold out.

He _wanted_ Matt. Mello knew that this wasn't just to get Matt to admit that he was the best or to teach Matt a lesson, but to posses Matt…completely.

He bit Matt's hand, hard enough for the redhead to feel through the leather, claiming his lips again in a searing kiss when Matt moved his hand away. During the kiss, Mello ran his hands up Matt's chest, grazing his nails on the tender flesh. Mello couldn't get enough of Matt's gasps and moans; he broke the kiss, shifting his assault to the redhead's bared neck.

--

Mello's hands were everywhere, swift and demanding and callous and shocking. It sent a chorus of noises chiming from Matt's vocals, sounds that Matt hadn't even known he could make…not until...not until...

"Ahh, Mello!" He threw his head back and bit off a cry as Mello scraped his nails over his torso again, simultaneous with the attack on his neck. "Ahhn, Mello, i-if you keep doing that..." His heart was racing, beating out a tattoo that drowned out his feeble protests. Mello was _moving_, shifting atop him to get a better angle, and the pressure was too much to keep Matt silent. Mello sucked in different spots along his neck between his ear and shoulder, and part of Matt — his resolution — was dying at the contact.

"If you keep _doing_ this to me, I'm going to _lose it_." The statement was a breathy whisper, the tone rendering the words themselves useless.

His next words were cried out in ecstasy. "Don't stop…."

--

Matt's cries were going straight to Mello's cock; he could feel himself harden with every intake of breath and gasp of his name. Matt was driving him insane. He couldn't have stopped even if he'd tried. He needed to make Matt cry out for him, _beg _him.

Mello needed more of him.

With that thought, he ripped off Matt's shirt, before shifting him to the side and shoving him down so they both lay horizontal on the couch. The sight of Matt lying on the couch, his arms up by his head, panting…. It almost undid Mello then and there. Matt looked up at him, begging him to continue, and Mello couldn't resist.

With a smirk, Mello slowly lowered himself so he was flush against Matt, groaning as their erections rubbed against each other, causing the sweetest friction he'd ever felt. He renewed his attack on Matt's neck, biting and suckling any skin he came into contact with. He stopped at the end of Matt's neck to leave a mark where it would be visible to anyone who saw him. Encouraged by Matt's moans of pleasure, Mello moved down to place a kiss on one of Matt's nipples, drawing out the loudest moan yet.

Oh, Matt would be the death of him with those moans….

--

Matt's moan...turned into a wanton shriek midway. Matt threw up a hand to cover his mouth, stuffed a gloved fist between his teeth…but it was too late. That hot, wet mouth, encircling his nipple while that tongue shot a feeling though him that played games with his every synapse... It had made Matt lose himself, more than he'd thought possible. This was Mello _taking control_, and Matt could feel the raw power in his groin and deeper.

Mello stiffened at first, perhaps caught off guard by the little scream of desire, and Matt pulled his glove away from his mouth with difficulty to find he'd made teeth marks in the leather.

"Mello, _Mello,_ god, don't toy with me like this. Just...I can't..." He reached out a hand and curled it around the back of Mello's neck, as the blond resumed his ministrations, quicker and a little more frenzied. Matt turned his head to one side, biting his lip until he wondered if he'd draw blood, fighting the waves of aching ardor that flooded his system like wildfire.

--

Matt's scream had startled Mello at first, but then his lust had skyrocketed at the look on Matt's face, Matt's eyes pleading with him to keep going. He would make Matt scream again; he had to hear that sound escape Matt's pliant lips.

Matt's hand at the back of his neck urged him on, and he sucked Matt's pert nipple as the redhead writhed in pleasure. Mello brought up his other hand to tweak the nipple that was being neglected, making Matt clutch harder at his neck, winding his fingers through his blond hair for a better hold. Every sound Matt let loose made Mello harder and harder, until Mello was fit to burst from the mere sight of him, completely uninhibited, squirming under his ministrations.

Deciding he'd paid enough attention to the now fully erect nipples, Mello started kissing down the rest of Matt's body. He stopped at the hem of Matt's pants, looking back up to catch Matt's eyes as he took the zipper in his mouth and pulled it down.

--

"Nnn..._don't stop!_ I...I want—" Matt couldn't take that come-hither stare. Those eyes said Matt's world was about to be blown, rocked like some epic earthquake, shaken until Matt was nothing but scattered, lustful pieces across the terrain of degeneracy they were traversing. He was sweating, slick with heat and swollen with an ache that needed to be relieved. Mello's teeth gleamed at him, as his zipper dangled down from between them... Mello had just used his teeth on _Matt_ that way. And oh, god, Mello's entire _mouth_, hovering just over the part of him that wanted Mello most that very instant...

Matt tangled his fingers in Mello's hair harder. "_Please;_ I don't know what I'll do if you don't...if you don't…. Oh _god_, Mello — I want you to take me..." He bucked upward harder than he meant to, his free hand grabbing the arm of the couch behind his head for support.

Mello let the zipper drop from his teeth, withdrawing far enough to give himself room to get his fingers beneath the hem of Matt's boxers. Matt just wanted his boxers _off_. Let there be no clothing between himself and Mello. Let there be nudity until he couldn't tell where he ended and Mello began. Let there be— god, he was babbling inside his brain, dizzy with want of it all. He lusted for Mello's hot breathing against the inside of his thigh again, and...

"Mello, don't make me keep waiting; I'll take them off if you give me a second to— aahh, don't lick your lips like that, it makes me want you harder..." Matt fumbled with his boxers, cursing himself for wearing them in the first place as he tried to contain his desire a few moments longer. But he could hardly move for sheer anticipation and the agony of still having had no release. His jeans and boxers were only halfway off, and Mello was watching him and oh, god...

--

Mello smirked at Matt's reaction. If not even touching him was making the redhead beg for Mello to take him, what would happen when Mello _did_?

He couldn't hold back a groan at the sight of Matt squirming in pleasure and anticipation. He'd had his fun, and now he needed to be in Matt as soon as humanly possible. Mello finished removing Matt's boxers, tossing them aside, listening to Matt's heavy breathing.

Mello looked at Matt, and he had to pause for a moment. Matt was sex incarnate.

He felt himself grow impossibly hard at the sight of Matt sprawled out on the couch, panting because of _him_. Shaking his head almost imperceptibly so he could focus on his task, Mello leaned forward, and took Matt's engorged head into his mouth. He both felt and heard Matt's sigh of satisfaction as he looked up, smirking even with Matt in his mouth. He chuckled, sending shockwaves through Matt's body, making him let out an almost scream that vaguely resembled Mello's name.

--

The pleasure was mind-numbing. Mello's hot, sticky mouth around Matt's length, that swirling, talented tongue licking up and down as Mello pushed him to the brink of sanity with how _good_ it felt... Matt's fingers tightened in Mello's hair until he was afraid his enthusiasm would rip blond strands from Mello's scalp. He let slip Mello's name, once, twice, and then all he could do was submit. His thighs were clenching, his stomach ached with something like ecstasy.

"Mello, you're...so good at this...go _faster_, ah, _oh god_, Mello, please..."

He trailed off into an oblivion of physical sensation. But before he lost himself completely, he got an idea.

"Mello," he said clearly, using what strength he had to stop Mello midway into another dip, "W-wait." And Mello released him, rising from Matt's member with his lips glistening, fixing Matt with a look that said he was ready to move on to something...more.

Matt wanted to let him.

Eyes darkening in pleasure, Matt moved his gaze to the crotch of Mello's fitted leather pants. He reached out and tugged playfully at the criss-crossed laces, lips parting slightly at the feel of the bulge beneath his hand. "Mello, I want you to feel this, too. If you keep..." Matt closed his eyes as Mello released a breath upon feeling Matt tug his laces again. "If you keep using your mouth like that on _me_..." He wasn't making any sense, but now his fingers were straying to Mello's belt. "I want to...at the same time as you, I want to... I'm not going to last if you keep on— _Mello,_ god please hurry and just _take me!_"

--

If only Matt knew exactly what he was doing to him. With every sound Matt made, Mello was tempted to just hurry up and bury himself in the heat of Matt's ass. Now, Matt had chucked his dignity and was literally whining for him.

Mello nearly lost it when Matt's slender fingers brushed against his heated groin, the touch sending his mind reeling. He almost had to slap himself to concentrate upon the feel of Matt's hand finally touching the bare skin of his arousal.

He would _not _lose control of this situation.

Somehow, Mello removed Matt's hand, pushing Matt back down so that he was hovering above him, threatening. He took Matt's wrists into one of his hands, holding them against the armrest of the couch. Mello brought his other hand up to his own mouth, licking his fingers suggestively. He grinned triumphantly as Matt squirmed and struggled, unable to take his eyes off the erotic display in front of him. Taking pity on him, Mello removed his fingers from his mouth, sliding them down the length of Matt's body.

He leaned down to whisper in Matt's ear, remembering what a strong effect it had on his confused gamer. "Alright Matt, I'll take you, but…" Mello paused, reaching his goal. He traced the rim of Matt's entrance lightly, teasingly, before pushing one saliva slickened finger in. He almost lost control and let Matt have exactly what he wanted when Matt let out an amazing sound. It was a cross between a whine and a growl, and Mello couldn't wait to hear it again, but he could be patient. Matt still hadn't learned his lesson.

"…But you just have to admit that I'm number one."

Mello smirked at the startled gasp that Matt let out when he started pumping his one finger in and out. He kept his motions slow, drawing out the pleasure.

"Come on, say it Matt."

--

"Ah— _ahhnn_, god damn it, Mel— _ah!_ Nnnn...not so slow... This is _torture,_ I..." But all Mello was asking for was a little sentence proclaiming his dominance.

And oh, was Mello ever dominant. Matt couldn't stand the way Mello was moving teasingly and languidly; he needed to feel more, needed the pace to pick up to slake the lust that seared him like hot iron.

Matt fought to tear his arms free, then seized the back of Mello's neck. "Fuck you," he delivered fiercely, yanking Mello down into their roughest kiss yet.

Matt let his tongue penetrate, felt Mello begin to respond despite himself. He sucked hard on Mello's lower lip, until they were both breathless and forced to end the wanton clash of their mouths. They pulled away from each other, Matt licking his lips and tasting Mello's flavor there, a combination of sweat and saliva and chocolate.

"You're number one," Matt said.

Mello's hand flew back up to Matt's wrists, and Matt let Mello pin him down twice as hard as before, finger still sliding in and out of him, adding heat to the desire Matt was already feeling.

--

_That kiss_ had broken the final thread reining in Mello's lust. Matt had admitted that he was the best, that _he_ was number one, and now Mello was going to make sure that Matt never forgot it.

He thrust another finger into Matt's tight passage, increasing his tempo while stretching the walls of the feisty redhead that writhed beneath him. With every stroke, Mello imagined that it wasn't his fingers, but his own weeping arousal penetrating Matt with thrust after hurried thrust. Finally, he added the third and what would be the final finger. He felt Matt stiffen, and knew this was both uncomfortable and pleasurable for him. Satisfied that Matt was too far lost in his haze of pleasure, Mello released Matt's wrists, moving his hand to pump Matt's erection to distract him from any pain Mello's harsh intrusion was causing.

After a few more scissoring motions, Mello decided Matt was ready enough. He could barely stand the way Matt just screamed sex with his hands gripping the armrest, eyes closed in raw pleasure. Mello smeared the precome from the tip of his member along his length, groaning at the feeling. He positioned himself at Matt's entrance, meeting Matt's eyes as he started to push in. Matt was _tight _and _hot_ and pure bliss. He pushed in as slowly as he could manage, taking ragged breaths to keep from pounding into Matt relentlessly. He was now fully encased by Matt's heat, and it was all he could do to pause enough to let Matt adjust.

--

Matt threw his head back and moaned for all he was worth. He knew Mello liked it, and he felt as if the sounds bursting from his throat only gave way to more pleasure, more release. A wild explosion of his lust and energy. It added to the experience. Hell, when Matt had heard Mello groan just before entering him... Matt had nearly seized Mello by the hips to press him in faster and harder, right up to the hilt. There was something carnal in their noise, something hot and careless as Mello thrust in and out, deeper and deeper until Matt arched his back to force him deeper still. Each thrust rocked him, brought him closer to the white haze of a climax that he knew would be coming.

Their bodies were slicked in sweat; Matt dragged his fingertips over the hard muscles in Mello's shoulders and down Mello's back, lost somewhere in Mello's arms. Mello shifted then, did something _brilliant_ with the angle of his hips, and Matt felt him hit a spot that tingled with the basest pleasure yet. "Oh _god_, Mello! _Harder!_" Now he was screaming for it, hoarse yells that ricocheted around the small space between them.

--

_GOD_. The combination of Matt's screams and the frantic bucking of his hips was enough to make Mello want to come then and there, but he couldn't. He _needed _to stay in Matt's tight heat until the last possible moment.

The feel of Matt's fingers scraping his back drove him crazy, and Matt's cries for him to move harder made him do just that. How could he not? He looked down at Matt, still thrusting for all he was worth. Matt was a living, breathing wet dream; his face was flushed with pleasure and he let out a wild groan as he met Mello's gaze with a sultry look of his own.

How did he _do _that? All Matt had to do was look at him to make him move faster and harder. Matt just needed to look at him like _that_ and Mello would do anything the redhead asked. He picked up the pace, his own breath coming out in strained pants as he prepared himself for what he was sure would be the best orgasm he'd ever had.

--

Matt's hips rose and fell to meet Mello's thrusts. He had never thought sex could be so cataclysmic, so rough and demanding, and so blindingly delicious all at once. But that was Mello; that had _always_ been Mello, and now it was Mello in ways that Matt had never dreamed he'd see. It was happening, it was real, and Matt cried out for it.

Matt lifted his hips again as Mello bore down on another thrust, the blond's chiseled abdomen grazing the swollen shaft of his erection. Mello pulled out, and Matt felt Mello's hard member drag across that deathly-sweet spot again, barely pausing enough to let Matt choke on a gasp before pounding in once more. Again came the friction at his erection, again the double pleasure, in two places at once, so much that Matt was _dying_ of it... Mello reached down to grip him in one hand, and Matt's vision went dizzy.

He was already slick as a lubricant with precome; Mello's hand slid up and down his length easily, pumping fast and sticky while his fingers squeezed with just the right amount of pressure. All this while he continued to thrust skillfully into Matt's opening. "Ahh, _aahhh..._ Mello, I'm—" Mello hit the sensitive spot inside Matt again, and Matt knew he was at the brink. The blond's fist pumped more tightly over Matt's member, his thrusts grew more fevered...and Matt felt release strike him in a blinding burst of otherworldly delirium.

"_Mello!"_ Jesus, Mello was a _god_.

Matt orgasmed hard, sticky come bursting forth to slick the space between them. He rode it out with a heavy cry.

--

Ooh! Mello was almost there, he could feel the haze of pleasure ready to burst from its confinement any second. Just a little more and he would be gone, and Matt screaming his name as his own orgasm took hold of him was enough. He felt the muscles of Matt's passage contracting around him, and it was all he could do to keep thrusting into the now pulsating heat of Matt's ass.

He let out a guttural yell, grasping Matt's hips as he rode out his orgasm, only slowing when the pleasure faded into a satisfied glow. He pulled out of Matt after that, taking in the sight of the redhead covered in his own come, still panting wildly, and looking back at him.

Looking into Matt's eyes, Mello smirked before delivering the final line of the night. "I'm number one, and don't you forget it." He pulled Matt closer to him as they drifted off to sleep, the computer screen shining light on their entangled, naked bodies on the couch.

--

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